


trained

by ushijima ebooks (bokutowl)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Sexual Tension, Yahaba Has A Dirty Mouth, future(ish) fic, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4319688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutowl/pseuds/ushijima%20ebooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're like a dog." They were in close proximity, too close for any kind of comfort, and Yahaba yanked the other even a little bit closer. "You have to be <i>trained.</i>"</p><p>[this wasn't a competition against each other, this was a battle, for the top of the food chain.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	trained

Yahaba cocked his head to the side slowly, his eyebrows lifting and his shoulders relaxing as he regarded the other with a careful stare. He walked slowly towards his shorter counterpart, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

Maybe that’s what tended to unsettle Kyoutani the most-- especially at times like this, after matches, in the locker room-- the _calm_ that seemed to come before the storm, the breath of peace that framed wars.

(Oh, goodness. He would _never_ , in his _lifetime_ , let Yahaba know that there was something that genuinely _unsettled_ him.)

Nonetheless, if Kyoutani was good at anything, it was keeping a sneer on his face. His eyebrow twitched at the deafening silence, only because he knew exactly what was going to be brought up the fucking _moment_ it was broken--

“You _don’t listen._ ” There it was. There was the growl in his tone, the irritation and seething anger in his eyes-- because no matter how much had changed since the third years left, since Yahaba became a captain and Kyoutani became an ace, there was still a dynamic filled to the brim with brooding and irritation and something neither of them bothered to fucking identify.

Kyoutani didn’t respond immediately; he waited until Yahaba was possibly a foot away before his lips curled into a snarl and he hissed, “You’re right. I fucking don’t.” It was just a practice match, Seijou had still won-- and rather quickly, too-- but irritation and tension had been building for days. “And you fucking _know_ that, right?” Yahaba’s lips pulled into a thin, tight line, and was about to speak, but Kyoutani continued before he could. “You know that there’s nothing you can fuckin’ do, _Captain_.” He didn’t mean it. Yahaba knew that Kyoutani didn’t mean it, that this was just him taking the adrenaline-fueled anger and running with it. Despite this, it didn’t stop the bubbling fury in the bottom of Yahaba’s stomach, the gritting of his teeth as he took another step closer.

“I can kick you off the team.”

“You wouldn’t.” Yahaba raised his eyebrows a bit and ‘Do you want to bet?’ was on the tip of his tongue but he ignored it in favor of rolling his neck.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t, I won’t.” The answer easily took Kyoutani by surprise, and he waited for Yahaba to continue, barely stopping himself from gasping when Yahaba grabbed his collar. “But even more than that, I want to punch you in the _teeth._ ”

Kyoutani’s voice came off more even than it probably should have. “Then why haven’t you?”

“Because I have self-restraint. Something you must not be familiar with.” Quite the obvious bait, and Kyoutani quite obviously took it, tilting his chin up further with the pull of his collar.

It looked like he was trying to decide exactly what to say, his thoughts mulling around behind his clenched teeth— and Kyoutani finally pieced together the right words for the situation. “Do you wanna fuckin’ know why I apparently don’t have self-restraint? Why I _don’t_ fuckin’ listen to you? Because you’re so fuckin’ _high and mighty._ ”

Yahaba cocked his head to the side, a sign that he wanted Kyoutani to continue. “You think you can tell me to do whatever the fuck you want me to do, not a single fucking question. _Oikawa_ didn’t get that from me, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna give it to _you._ ” It was like the world was completely silent for a moment or two, because neither of them said a thing. The air was hung thick, way too thick-- almost _suffocating,_ but neither Kyoutani nor Yahaba dared to break the lock of their gaze.

"Fine," Yahaba _hissed,_ still not letting go of Kyoutani's collar, still looking him dead in the eye, "If you're not going to give that too me, I guess I just have to _force_ it out of you, don't I? Because that seems like the only thing you'd ever listen to."

Because Yahaba knew that Kyoutani was more animalistic than what could be considered humorous, because Yahaba was starting to pick up on _exactly_ how to act around Kyoutani. This wasn't a competition against each other, this was a _battle,_ for the top of the food chain. Whoever was at the top was the king of the castle, and anyone under then would just have to _listen._

(The hard part, of course, would be getting either of them to admit any kind of defeat. Which would likely _never_ happen towards listening ears.)

"There's that _shit_ again." Yahaba holding Kyoutani's collar only made it easier for Kyoutani to grab Yahaba's, yank the other for a good measure. His teeth were bared and his tone was a couple steps further from absolutely vicious, his honey eyes narrowed nearly to slits. "That shit that makes you have _some_ fuckin' idea that you can _force_ anythin' out of me. When are you going to get it in the pretty-boy head of yours? I ain't gonna listen to you."

Yahaba laughed, chin tilting up, because his blood felt like it was boiling under his skin, that his heart was beating heavy like a freight train, and this was the furthest situation from something actually humorous. "I said _fine._ Don't listen to me. You don't have to. You're like a _dog._ " They were in close proximity, too close for any kind of comfort, and Yahaba yanked the other even a little bit closer. "You have to be _trained._ "

Before Kyoutani could say a word, Yahaba released his collar so quickly that the shorter male staggered back a step or two, surprise evident for a fraction of a second. Almost in the same breath, Yahaba grabbed as much of Kyoutani's cropped hair and _pulled_ him back forward-- he knew Kyoutani wouldn't yell, wouldn't grunt or yelp because that was _pride_ on the line, any sound he made was giving Yahaba the benefit of the controls, the benefit of know that he _is_ affecting him in such a manner.

And that was the _last_ thing that Kyoutani wanted to do.

So he merely let out a low, dangerous hiss, keeping his eyes level with Yahaba's, like two predators after the same food source. He had realised, early on, that Yahaba's eyes were the most expressive and most telling thing about him. No matter what smiles, frowns, expressions or deadpans that Yahaba had on his lips, as long as one could see his _eyes,_ they could know every single thing they needed to know about anything Yahaba was currently feeling.  
Whether Yahaba himself knew was a complete other matter, and why Kyoutani had paid attention so much was another altogether. The fact was, at the current state, Yahaba looked some emotion past livid, some emotion that was a mixture of anger and resolution and raw _determination_ that made Kyoutani's heartbeat quicken and his toes curl. It felt like he was staring right through him, into everything he's ever said and-- well, that was completely terrifying.

Yahaba Shigeru was utterly _terrifying,_ but Kyoutani wasn't going to let that show on his face today.

Instead, he steeled his jaw, keeping his eyes steady and his mind even steadier, his fists balling at his sides. "Trained." He spat the word, like it was poison dripped on the tip of his tongue, face scrunching up and lips curling, like he was completely offended by everything the word possessed. And he was, definitely, but he's gotta keep up his airs, he's got to keep up some kind of semblance of the person Yahaba's seen, so he said the only thing he could possibly think of to exacerbate this situation to levels it can't come back down from.

"I wanna see you fuckin' _try._ "

The first thing Yahaba did that took Kyoutani by surprise is the forcing of their lips together like the crash of two high-speed trains, most of the force coming from his hair gripped through Yahaba’s fingers as tight as kingdom come. Even though it takes him by surprise, Kyoutani was already reacting like he had thought of this scenario for ages and ages on end. He's enthralled and.... moderately _intoxicated_.

Luckily, Yahaba kisses like he's out to maim and take names, leaving Kyoutani completely breathless and grabbing back at the other's collar as hard as he possibly can. Kyoutani's lips are _much_ softer than Yahaba had ever expected them to be (a fact he'll very much dwell on much later, but not as much right now) and he's decided upon himself to bruise them up a bit, this mission only getting easier when Kyoutani has his fingers curled around the ironed fabric of Yahaba's volleyball jersey.

This situation is too much in Yahaba's favor, Kyoutani realised, taking a step forward from being pressed back against the lockers so he was pressed against Yahaba instead, licking inside his mouth and grazing his teeth against the other's bottom lip. As if he was sensing the retaliation, Yahaba tugged at Kyoutani's hair, making him hiss and giving him a chance to latch his teeth to the latter's soft lips, relishing when he tasted just a _bit_ of that metallic tang.

He pulled back a second later, chest heaving because they _forgot_ the importance of air to the human body-- Kyoutani was staring right at him with blown eyes, just as winded as Yahaba was. The silence was thick again, heavy, until Yahaba kissed him again, but not before Kyoutani sucked in a breath and whispered heavily, " _Fuck--_ "

Because there was something about this situation, this fight, that was making Kyoutani's heart beat too damn fast out of his chest, making him heavy lidded and all his thoughts go south. He was cornered, up against a damn wall, and it was the first time that he realized that Yahaba was taller than him, that Yahaba actually _could_ corner him like this; that's what he was doing, after all. But Kyoutani was a pro at playing it off, playing off that feeling in the back of his mind that made him want to act like a cornered animal-- he was a pro at biting _back._

If this was supposed to be his taming, he sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy for Yahaba. He fought back with everything he had, his teeth, his tongue, his lips, and his vigor. Yahaba seemed to take it all in heavy strides, though, licking at Kyoutani's bruising lips when they parted again, taking in every feature of the other that was giving away exactly how much of this was effecting him. Which, of course, was an absolute _fuck_ ton.

It made his chest swell with pride and something close to _power,_ and he knew that if he road the feeling as far as he could in this encounter he'd find himself somewhere he probably couldn't come back from.

He wasn't quite in a mind to care, though,because when his fingers tightened in Kyoutani's short hair and the other let out a sound that was the hissing mixture of a moan and a growl, Yahaba's breath stopped in his throat. It was enlightening, enthralling, and _empowering_. Kyoutani knew what he had done the moment he did it, his eyes widening a tad as Yahaba continued to stare at him.

The wing spiker was on the defensive in an instant, sneering out, "Fuck you," in his most dangerous voice available, which wasn't that dangerous at all-- it was raspy, lacking air, and tight in his throat. Worst of all, though, it seemed that Yahaba hadn't heard a word of it; he had been staring, forward, but he looked down the next moment, dark eyes narrowing as he _bent_ down a bit to be eye level.

"I'm not the one that _said_ anything. I mean, technically, you didn't say anything either...." It was caustic and pure fire, just like everything he's said to Kyoutani, and it almost makes the latter want to moan again-- because maybe getting talked _back_ to was a kink Kyoutani never liked to think he had. "But this is _definitely_ affecting you, isn't it?"

 _"--No, it fuckin' isn't._ " Oh, it was definitely obvious now. He shouldn't have said a fucking thing, he should have kept his trap shut, but Kyoutani was never one for having any pre-thought on any decision he made, even more so in such close quarters. It was painfully obvious how much this was affecting him, how much every single fucking word that left Yahaba's lips served to twist in his gut and send heat straight down south. Yahaba tilted his head to the side, looking away for the first time in the entire encounter, but only for a moment.

It really was only a second, because in the next second Kyoutani was sucking in a hissed gasp when Yahaba's skilled fingers were at the front of his shorts, palming his crotch as the setter supplied slowly, " _Really?_ Not affecting you at _all?_ Because it seems like you could come right here, in your pants. And just from me biting your lips and yanking your hair too..." If only for emphasis, for the sake of seeing the other grit his teeth while he bit back moans, Yahaba's voice got its best mocking air as he rolled his wrist slowly, kneading Kyoutani's cock while chiding, "...you _masochist."_

It was undeniably the sexiest thing Kyoutani had ever seen, and he was dumbstruck for a moment or two, but once his senses came back way too fast and went straight to his dick, he realised to easily that he was losing this. Yahaba had the upper hand in this situation in a way that made it alarmingly difficult for Kyoutani to take it back, and it made him realise that he might not even want it back-- oh, but he wasn't going to admit that to even _himself,_ heaven forbid he mention it to Yahaba. Instead, he arched his hips on instinct to the slender fingers of his captain over his clothed crotch, leveling a look right into Yahaba's eyes.

If he wasn't going to have the upper hand, he might as well try to make Yahaba slip.

"Fine," he growled, voice strained and eyes staying on Yahaba's, "You're fuckin' _right._ But are you gonna make me come in my pants, _Captain?_ Do you want me to scream your name too? While I'm imagining us fucking right here on the fucking floor?" His voice dropped an octave, and his head tilted downwards a tad. "'Cause that's so _dirty_ of you." Kyoutani relished in the reaction of Yahaba's eyes widening and his breath quickening. He took it as a good sign, a _great_ sign, to continue, and wasted no time in doing so.

"Or are you getting a fucking power trip from this, huh? Are you gettin' hard from finally having one over me? I wanna hear you fuckin' _admit it."_ It took a moment or two, but then Yahaba's hand still on Kyoutani's crotch squeezed.

"Yes. Is that what you wanted to hear?" No, no it fucking _wasn't,_ Kyoutani realised, because Yahaba's answer was condescending and it didn't feel like he was winning this at _all._ "Because I am. I'm _completely_ enjoying _wrecking_ you."

His instant response was, "You're _not_ \--" but Yahaba cut that off in a second, his hand slipping right into Kyoutani's pants without a second to lose, his expression staying this aggravating neutral that Kyoutani found himself wanting to punch the fuck off. "F-Fuck--"

"What was that? Try saying that _again._ " Before any attempts could even be made, Yahaba's thumb rubbed at the slit of Kyoutani's cock, making him gasp out another groan, tilting his head back-- but Yahaba pulled Kyoutani's head back straight in the next moment, getting that glare again. He got it even _worse_ when his hands slipped out of Kyoutani's pants, settling for just resting right on the top of his pants. "Ahh, I think I've decided. I do want you to come in your pants. I do want you imagining us fucking on the floor. Is it really that dirty?" The fucking _innocence_ that laced Yahaba's tone was pissing Kyoutani off but was getting him off all the same, because he knew that it was fake. "Because you're just as dirty, aren't you?"

"I'm not the one pretendin' to be an _angel_ , though." When Yahaba smiled, and his hand started rubbing at Kyoutani through the fabric of his pants again in fast, hard strokes, it took what little self-restraint the blonde had left to not arch his back against the lockers.

"Who said I was pretending?" He was the _devil,_ wasn't he? Yahaba was fucking _Satan,_ Kyoutani mused, eyes closed as he tried to not focus on the horridly sinful fingers working at his crotch, through his pants. At this point, it was obvious that Yahaba knew how much raw control he had, how much power was at his fingertips and his lips, because he was using it all in rapid succession-- every time Kyoutani would bite back a moan, his hands would _speed up,_ so much so that the following gasp would be inevitable.

The worst thing might be that Kyoutani was right, that Yahaba was riding on some kind of power trip, because this was _addicting,_ having this much power over someone that had never allowed anyone to have it. Yahaba literally had Kyoutani in the palm of his hand, and he was completely aware of it. As long as he was there, he reasoned he might as well take it for all it's worth, never breaking eye contact with Kyoutani and pulling him back into orbit when the latter attempted to break it regardless.

"Are you? Are you imagining it? Us fucking right here on the floor, right after practice, after practice matches, after everyone's left the gym and it's only us to lock up. You're fucking me hard, and I'm _moaning_ so loud it doesn't seem _real,"_ He was way too good at this. Way to fucking good. Kyoutani managed a glare, his chest tightening, as he let out a shallow breath. He cursed as he felt himself getting close, his hips pressing forward towards Yahaba's hand. "Do you want me to moan your name when I come? Or do you want me to _scream_ it so loud that the next day at practice they wonder why my voice is _hoarse?_ "

Kyoutani was obviously on the edge, breathless, as Yahaba's fingers tugged harder through the fucking gym shorts. "Do you want to fuck me so hard that when I come, the only thing I know how to say is--" He really was evil, Kyoutani reasoned, because Yahaba's voice dropped to dangerous levels, and his smile was so exceptionally lewd, " _Kentarou."_

This time, Kyoutani's back did arch against the lockers, and he slammed back down against him when he came with an _embarrassing_ moan. His breathing was heavy, his eyes were too, and his knees felt like they could buckle at any time. They didn't, though, because Yahaba was looking at him with the most deceptively calm face on this good earth as he let go of Kyoutani's hair and his damp crotch-- because now his victory hung _thick_ in the air, Yahaba knew it, and Kyoutani did too.

The nail in the coffin, though, was when the expression left Yahaba's face in an instant, and he took a step back, saying offhandedly, "Our next practice match is in two weeks, and we're planning to have practice almost every single day until then." He leaned to the side a bit, as if he were thinking, "We won today, but we made a lot of mistakes. We're going to start working on them next practice." Kyoutani was completely silent, glaring with all the emotion he could muster as Yahaba turned around, picking up his shoulder bag.

He truly thought that was the end of it, he really did, and he was certain that Yahaba was going to act like this had never happened-- but then the setter cocked his head back a bit, looking Kyoutani right in the eyes as he drawled, "See you tomorrow, _Kentarou._ "

**Author's Note:**

> all u sinners stand up sing hallelujah will there be a sequel to this where they DO fuck on the floor? stay tuned


End file.
